


words are precious

by sassastrophe (regulardudetier)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/sassastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>somewhat of an AU i guess. older AU. zayn and niall reconnect after a long time of not talking. kudos, comments, any feedback is appreciated! my first time writing one direction fic ok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	words are precious

She peppered kisses all over his bare chest. The Pakistani boy was highly uninterested, letting his hands float to the side of the bed. He knew she was getting annoyed by his lack of anything physical. She knew another way to change his mind. 

Her hands drifted down to his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, undoing. He grunted, shoving her off to the side. Her perplexed look meant nothing to him. Quickly doing up his pants, Zayn shifted his weight off of the bed and grabbed the pack of smokes sitting on the dresser. "Be right back."

The morning air was crisp and cold against his bare skin. Hopefully the drag of the cigarette would make him feel warmer, but he still shivered every now and then. One cigarette led to a second, and he knew that if he wasn't wary of his own actions the second would lead to a third. It was an addiction he wanted to quit, but couldn't quite bring himself to give up just yet. Sure, it was threatening to his life and career, but it was so damn calming. 

"I'm leaving, then," the female voice called from inside the penthouse apartment. Zayn grunted again, flicking the butt off of the balcony. He chuckled as the door slammed, the lock clicking, and he brushed a hand through his own hair. His room was a mess. Shirts and jumpers lying here and there, a bra or two strewn about with messy phone numbers written on them. Shit he'd gathered from concerts all around the world. Of course, that was almost three years ago. 

The band hadn't been the same, not really. Ever since Louis ran off and Harry chased after him, Liam disappeared off the face of the planet and Niall...Niall was Niall. The beautiful Irishman was the only one Zayn really kept up with. He couldn't help it, though. The boy had the eyes of a god and the voice of an angel. When he spoke, Zayn felt safe. It wasn't something he'd let be known publicly, considering his outer shell gave off a more tough look. But there was nothing more in the world Zayn wanted to hear now than Niall's voice, whether it be via mobile or through old videos. He really did miss his best friend.

After rustling around through drawers and tangled sheets, Zayn finally found his phone. It had almost 10% battery left. That's enough to make a good phone call, I suppose. He punched through several menus, finding the contacts and scrolling to 'N'. The number sat there for a good while before he finally mustered the courage to press the call button. It rang almost four times before the dial tone disappeared. 

"Christ, Zayners. It's too early for this."


End file.
